Trouble in Hell kitchen

On a wooden table, a tall young man named Tom sat devouring a juicy steak. With a single bite, he effortlessly demolished the entire piece of meat.

The onlookers couldn't help but be amazed by his display of strength and voracious appetite.

Tom had been diligently practicing for the past two weeks, and the results were astounding. Not only had he become more muscular, but he had also experienced an unexpected growth spurt.

Previously standing at a modest 5'10", Tom now towered over others at an impressive 6'3".

Even his jaw had become noticeably stronger, allowing him to effortlessly bite through bone.

One day, while savoring a ribeye steak, Tom's curiosity got the best of him.

He decided to test his jaw strength by attempting to bite through the bone. To his astonishment, a resounding crack echoed through the air as the bone succumbed to his powerful jaws.

As Tom marveled at his own growth, he couldn't help but attribute it to the mysterious system that had granted him these incredible abilities. "The system is truly magical," he thought, a mix of wonder and gratitude filling his mind.

With his meal finished, Tom rose from the table and made his way home.

As he settled onto the couch, he couldn't help but wonder about his progress. Turning to the system, he asked, "System, how many shock points do I currently have?"

"Ding!"

"The host has a total of 76 shock points," the system replied.

Tom pondered this information for a moment before inquiring further, "How many shock points do I need to draw again?"

"Ding!"

"The host needs 100 shock points to draw again," came the response.

A sigh escaped Tom's lips as he contemplated the arduous task of accumulating the remaining points.

Earning shock points from normal civilians proved to be a challenging endeavor. Each civilian only awarded him a meager point, and even that diminished as news of his immense strength spread.

It seemed that his reputation had made it harder to earn the much-needed shock points.

Determined not to be discouraged, Tom cleared his mind and engaged in a rigorous exercise routine before retiring for the night.

After a refreshing shower, he slipped into bed, ready to embrace a well-deserved rest.

The following morning, Tom was roused from sleep by the blaring sound of his alarm clock.

Irritated by the interruption, he slammed his hand down, inadvertently shattering the clock into pieces. After a brief moment of frustration, he managed to collect himself and rose from the bed.

As he went about his morning routine, Tom realized that his fridge was devoid of any food suitable for cooking.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and he decided to venture outside for a meal. A steaming bowl of hot soup sounded particularly enticing.

Leaving his house, Tom strolled through the neighborhood in search of a suitable restaurant.

However, to his dismay, he couldn't find any establishments nearby. Recalling a ramen shop in Hell's Kitchen, he altered his course and headed in that direction.

After a lengthy half-hour walk, Tom finally arrived at the ramen shop.

The tantalizing aroma of the savory broth enveloped him as he stepped inside.

Seated at a corner table, he eagerly placed his order, anticipation building with each passing moment.

Midway through his meal, a commotion erupted outside.

Tom's attention shifted, and he turned to see a group of rowdy men barging into the shop.

One of them, brimming with aggression, bellowed, "Get out of here! We're here to eat!"

Unfazed by their intimidating presence, Tom calmly continued slurping his noodles.

The man's face reddened with anger, veins pulsating on his forehead.

He leaned in, his voice dripping with hostility, "Are you ignoring me, you fucker?"

Tom finally glanced up, his piercing gaze meeting the man's furious eyes.

With a nonchalant tone, he retorted, "Get lost. Don't make me lose my appetite."

Enraged by Tom's dismissive response, the man slammed his hand on the table, causing Tom's bowl of ramen to fly across the room.

Rising to his feet, Tom leisurely made his way to the exit, motioning for the man to follow.

The man, consumed by his own rage, accepted the challenge and trailed behind Tom.

The rest of the group, sensing an impending confrontation, eagerly joined in pursuit.

Once outside, Tom turned to face his aggressor.

Without hesitation, he delivered a swift, open-handed slap across the man's face. The force behind the blow sent the man hurtling backward, his mouth bloodied and several teeth shattered upon impact.

"Ding!"

+2 shock points

+2 shock points

+2 shock points...

Tom stood in astonishment as the system awarded him multiple shock points for his victory.

"It seems these men hold more significance than ordinary civilians," he mused, intrigued by the unexpected turn of events.

With the other men closing in, Tom braced himself for a fight.

His fists struck with precision, incapacitating the first assailant who dared to approach.

Seizing the opportunity, he seized the heads of the remaining two men, forcefully colliding them together. They crumpled to the ground, defeated.

Only one man remained, his trembling knees betraying his fear.

Attempting to salvage some semblance of control, he stammered, "You demon, don't come any closer. Do you even know who our boss is its Kingpin?"

Curiosity sparked within Tom as he pondered the name the man had mentioned. "Kingpin? Who is that?" he wondered aloud.

Before he could delve further into his thoughts, the man turned and fled, desperate to escape Tom's relentless pursuit.

Undeterred, Tom sprinted after him, his determination unwavering.

"Think you can escape?" Tom called out, his voice laced with a quiet intensity.

The man, his breath ragged and fear evident in his eyes, pleaded, "You demon, don't follow me. Boss Kingpin will never let you go."

Then Tom starts running like a lion preying on its prey.

Unyielding, Tom closed the distance between them in a matter of seconds.

With a swift, powerful kick, he sent the man sprawling to the ground. The sickening sound of bones cracking echoed through the air, leaving no doubt as to the impact of Tom's strike.

Having emerged victorious, Tom took a moment to calm himself.

Stretching his limbs to alleviate any tension, he made his way back home.

After changing into more comfortable attire, he settled onto the couch, his mind still preoccupied with the enigmatic figure known as Kingpin.

"Kingpin," Tom muttered, his brow furrowing in deep thought.

The name stirred a sense of familiarity within him, a connection to the dark underbelly of crime.

Then Tom suddenly says, "Wait, Kingpin isn't that the one who's called the King of the underworld crime?"

"shit, this is troublesome" Tom thought